Our foster dog Elsa (now renamed Allie) found her forever home with Kristin and her family. She now lives in Battle Creek Michigan with her Husky brother, 2 kids and a loving Mom and Dad. She has a BIG back yard to play in and a nice park to go for walks and sniff everything in site.
We miss her around here, but it is nice to be back down to just 2 crazy beagles for a while.
Looking at my Facebook and Twitter steams lately, I’m coming to some conclusions. (Yes, I know FB and Twitter are not the best place to see the world through, but a TON of people do so I’m going with it). I think the 2 major parties fans are like football fans. No matter what the team does, they are for it blindly following the party and they feel as long as their TEAM won, everything is OK. If not, all hell breaks loose. If the President has that much of a effect on your life, you are doing something wrong.
Let me say up front that I am very happy that Hillary Clinton is not our President. It has 100% to do with HER and not President Trump. She’s very arrogant, dishonest and treats people badly such as the Military and Secret service. When the cameras are off, it’s well documented that she is a total bitch to people.
Just because I’m happy Trump won the election, does not mean I get to defend everything he does. (As my Liberal friends would want me to do). ALL I’m saying is he was ever so slightly better than her. I will not defend what Trump does if we get into a discussion about it.
Trump is the legitimately elected President of the United States. The Electoral College IS the law of the land and that is how the rules are. It does not matter one tiny bit that he lost the popular vote. That isn’t how the system works. Deal with it or Change it, but shut the fuck up about it!
It does seem funny that the party that says they are tolerant, loving and for the little guy are the ones rioting, marching and spewing hate on social networks. Whenever I post something even SLIGHTLY political (I don’t do it much) I get all my liberal frends asking me to defend some off the wall thing or another. I am NOT the spokesman for Trump or the Republicans. Truth be told, I’m more Librarian. I believe that whatever you do that doesn’t cost me money or take away my rights is fine. I like to say I’m one of the few people that say that All Gay married couples should be able to defend their pot plants with a gun!
I’m not unfriending many people on Facebook over politics. There have been a few. There are people I had on my friends list that are just obsessed. Facebook is not REAL LIFE and I am going to guess NOBODY has ever had their mind changed because of some bullshit Facebook post.
How could we split these two up? Percy (the bigger one on bottom of the pile) was our foster dog for Midwest BREW but… He and Benny get a long so good and he’s just a nice dog, we adopted him.
He’s been here a month and a half (or so). He has the normal Beagle traits such as getting into the garbage, jumping over the baby gate so he can eat the cat food the occasional howling. He’s training Benny well. Especially the potty training part. We haven’t had an “Accident” in the house for over a month!
I look forward to many years of “da boys” playing in the yard, going for rides in the car and other fun beagle stuff.
Now we just have to get his License to be a dog in Michigan as his West Virginia license is no good. Wouldn’t want a scofflaw living in our house now would we? 🙂
Percy is the first foster dog we are getting this weekend as volunteers of a great organization, Midwest Beagle Rescue, Education & Welfare (Midwest BREW) found at gotbeagles.org. When we lost Banjo this spring, we reached out to BREW to possibly adopt a beagle from them. We went through all the red-tape to adopt (It is to make sure the beagles get great homes) and by the time we were ready, Benny became available from some other people and we grabbed him.
I’ve always wanted to help out with dogs in need and since I’m a beagle person (so is my wife Kathy) we decided to volunteer at Midwest BREW. After a bit more paperwork and interviews, we are now getting Percy. He is a 1 year old beagle coming from a home of a single mother that can’t keep him for whatever reason so she gave him up in West Virginia. That is where BREW stepped in. As I type this He is on his way to Toledo Ohio via Big Truck. (Trucker Volunteers that move rescue dogs for free) He will arrive in Toledo Thursday and spend the night with some other volunteer’s in Toledo. Then he will be put on the Beagle Relay (I call it that) on his way up here to Traverse City Via Ann Arbor and West Branch Michigan where I will meet him and bring him to our home.
From there he will stay with us for 14 days to get his vet checks and shots and for us to get to know him and write a bio for the website. He will then be put up for adoption on GoBeagles.org where someone will apply and adopt him. So we might have him for a month, or 3 months. It’s going to be a bit hard to get to know a dog and then have to give him up, but that’s what Dog Rescues are all about.
We look forward to helping out many beagles find great homes all over the Midwest! We expessially look forward to meeting the first one, Percy, and We hope his stay at Dell’s BB&B is a pleasant one.
When I was 16 years old, I was headed back to our barn, on a warm summer afternoon, after a long horse ride. The horse was having a much needed drink of water and while I was putting the saddle away, this straggly looking German Shepard mix dog came slinking up to the barn. He was brown, tan and black like any other German Shepard but there was something not quite right with his ears. They looked like they belonged on another dog. Kind of upright with the top third of them flopping forward and about two-thirds the size they should have been. He was very timid and looked like he hadn’t eaten in awhile. He reminded me of a dog from down the road named Jake. I told him “Go home Jake!” He looked up at me as if to say, “I am home dummy!” “You just don’t know it yet”. The dog I called “Jake” wouldn’t leave. I figured out that he was not going to leave on his own so I gave him some food and showed him the bucket of water in the barn. He ate that food so fast; you would have thought he was having filet mignon, although it was just the kibbles we fed our other dog. I did not give him much more though that night. I figured he would just wander the mile or so back to his own house.
The next day, I went to the barn to feed the horses and there was “Jake”. He had slept in the hay on the floor in the barn outside the stalls. I told him “Well, Jake, I suppose we better take you home.” After I did my chores Jake and I jumped into my old orange 1974 Chevy truck. We used the Chevy around the farm to haul hay, wood and I used it to get to and from school. He just jumped in the back just like he’d been doing it his whole life. I settled into the driver’s seat and we headed down the road. When I pulled up to the house, I noticed that “Jake” (the one I thought this dog was) was in his kennel along side the garage like I had seen every other time I passed by this house. I backed out and headed back home to try and figure out the mystery of this dog “Jake”. Where did Jake come from? Who’s dog was he? Was he just dumped off and and found our barn a nice barn to hang out in? What was his story?
After a couple of weeks searching and asking around, I found out, from some neighbors, that Mr. Johnson, a crotchety old man that lived in a trailer down by the lake, had a dog that looked just like Jake. They suggested I go see him. I decided I would go on the horse to Mr. Johnson’s place and give him his dog back. I found out later that “Jake” was originally named “Tamarak”. He was to be the replacement guard dog for Mr. Johnson.
With Jake running along side, we arrived at the house trailer at the end of a long dirt driveway. I knocked on the door. Old man Johnson answered it, looked out and saw the dog. He griped “I wondered what happened to that good for nothing piece of crap dog!” The old man came outside, grabbed the dog by the collar and proceeded to drag him over to the garage. He hooked a chain to the very scared looking dog and told me thank you for bringing Tamarak home. As I rode up the driveway, I couldn’t help but feel bad for the dog. He didn’t seem very happy about being tied up. I could hear him barking and making other disturbing noises as I went up the driveway towards the road.
I then heard the dog yipe followed by old man Johnson yelling, “keep the son-of-a-bitch”. Dragging half the chain, Jake caught up to me and I jumped off the horse, unhooked it and yelled back “Thanks! I will!” We took the long way home though Spencer’s Woods on the old hunting trail that had long since given way to the brush and through open farmer’s fields behind our place. I knew right then, that Jake was going to be our dog. More specifically, he was going be my dog.
Dogs, like humans, come with all different kinds of personalities, different dispositions. Jake had a definite perseverance to his personality. We spent a lot of time together. He would sleep in my room on my bed and grumble a little bit when I wanted to take my half. He was the best friend a guy could want. His favorite activity was taking a ride in the truck. If you asked him, “want to go for a TRUCK RIDE?” you would think it was the best news he’s heard in a year and would enthusiastically run back and forth and bounce around until you opened the door to let him out of the house. He was quite skillful in getting his spot in the truck. If the camper top was off of the truck, he would jump in the bed without anyone having to put the tailgate down. If topper was on the truck and the windows in the cab were open, he would fly through the window like he had wings and would be sitting there ready to go by the time I was in the drivers seat. On the off chance the topper was on and the windows were up, he would leap on the hood of the old Chevy, just to make sure the pickup wasn’t going anywhere without him.
On hot days, Jake liked to dig in the field beside the house. He would dig great big holes that I would have to fill in later. One day while I was doing chores, I looked over and all I saw 4 big paws sticking out a particularly big hole. Jake had out-done himself. The hole he dug was so big that he flipped over while getting it just a bit deeper and was stuck. It was the funniest thing I had seen in a while and all the time I spent walking up to “save” my buddy was spent laughing so hard I could barley breath.
Jake stayed with me though the rest of my high school years. When I left for the Air Force, although I missed my parents and sister quite a bit, Jake was what I thought about when I thought of home. While I was gone, Jake and my dad became best friends. Dad would take him for rides and walks regularly and he settled in to a very comfortable life. As Jake was getting older, he could no longer get in the back of the truck easily. Dad would back up to the hill along the house and put the tailgate down. Jake would hear his favorite words “Get in the truck” and could run right up into it without the pain and embarrassment of his limited mobility.
Saving a dog from a life with someone who didn’t appreciate them makes me feel as if I have done a good thing for the dog and the dog repaid me many times over. At the time, Jake was just a cool dog had shown up; one that my folks (and his previous owner) let me keep. Now I look back and realize that it was the first of three similar cases where I have taken in a dog that would have otherwise met a much worse fate. All of the dogs have turned out much better then I would have expected when I gave them my home. Dogs, just like people, can be much more then you first realize. They may look down and out, they may be a little rough around the edges, but if given a chance, they will prove to you they are much more then they first look like and are worth keeping around. This dog, and every other dog we have taken in, have been a great source of entertainment, companionship and love. Without Jake in my life back then, I wouldn’t be as able to see the good in everyone (or every dog), no matter what they look like or what their past may have been.
***update: On June 4th, 2016 Banjo passed away from a spinal cord injury doing what he loved the most. Chasing the orange ball. RIP Banjo!
I get this question from Pro Gun Control people all the time. “What do you need that gun for?”
I’ve thought about the answer and I’ve come up with this. “I don’t know”. I’ve always said that a good answer to any question can be I don’t know.
I don’t know what I might need my gun for. The fact that I don’t know doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have it available. The fact that I don’t know is a reason all by itself. Just like I don’t know why I would need a fire extinguisher for in my house. It could be that my furnace catches on fire, it could be that forget something on the stove and it catches fire or I might need it to fight my way out of the house if the whole place goes up. I don’t know.
I might never *need* my gun. But, if the need arises, I will be very happy that I do have it. In fact it’s my great hope that I NEVER NEED my gun. Just like the fire extinguisher I have in my home, the Life Jacket I wear while boating, the safety belt I wear when I climb my Ham Radio Tower or the spare tire I keep in my van. I hope I never NEED any of that. My gun is just another tool that I may find handy some day.
The fact that I own a gun and am licensed to carry that gun in public (out of sight) and can, if I choose, carry it in plain view without that licence, does not mean I’m some sort of gun nut. It doesn’t mean that I’m looking for a fight. It doesn’t mean I’m paranoid. It just means I choose to have just one more tool for the things I don’t know might happen.
For the record, I had to qualify for my licence to conceal carry my gun by submitting my background to the State Police and FBI along with my fingerprints. I had to authorize them to check my mental health status and judge my character at a county gun board meeting. (They are doing away with the gun boards in Michigan at the end of this year). I also had to complete a training course that includes the law and rules for CCW, safe gun handling and accurate shooting. It also requires me to practice to keep that license when it comes time to renew it. I’m one of the good guys. The majority of gun owners in Michigan and in the USA are responsible and (for the most part) are the good guys. Any restrictions put on us lawful, responsible gun owners will not stop the kind of mass shootings that show up in the news from time to time. These events are sad, but… If you notice, they mostly happen where lawful gun owners can not carry their guns. Churches and Schools for the most part. You never see this kind of things in Gun shows, Gun shops or other places where lawful carry is common.